


Reverie of Mirror Shards

by dokidokii



Category: no fiction - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Anxiety, BPD, Coming of Age, Dark, Depression, Drama, England - Freeform, F/M, Major character death - Freeform, New York, PSTD, Rape, Romance, Voilence, anger issues, cut from royalty, revenge story, sexually explicit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 12:21:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20693435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dokidokii/pseuds/dokidokii
Summary: Ex-Mistress Eveangeline Cain has her hands full with a full new life on her own as she balances work, a budding romance, and her past looming against her. Can she keep her hands clean with the death of her past looming over her like a dead body?





	Reverie of Mirror Shards

“I just feel naked! Even when I’m not. His brown eyes make me hate my own!” A brunette girl with wavy hair to her shoulders spits out at her cross-legged lap. With her fists stuck in between the gap between her thighs, she looks up to the pair of dull blue eyes aflame from the candlelight in the middle of the circle.  
The pair of ocean eyes stare back, and then close as their wearer tilts her head of platinum bleached hair to the ceiling of red and gold intricacy. The towhead swallows deeply as her eyes trace the flowered pattern of the wall, her head turns until she finally swings her head back down to face the brunette.  
“Katya, believe me, I know how you feel. I’m getting sick of this but there is no esca-.”  
“Bullshit!”  
“Language, Beverly is here!” The eldest of the room scolds Katya, and both pairs of eyes flash to the toddler of the room who stared blankly at the flickering candlelight with her bright blue eyes. Beverly’s small chubby face was bruised and scratched, red from abuse. Her mouth was pressed into a fine line as she continued to zone out. But soon her weary head falls forward, only caught by the bright blonde’s lanky hand.  
Beverly starts, her messy waist-length dark brunette hair shutters as a chill goes down her spine. She mouths something, words trying to form, but instead, she waves away the blonde’s hand in lieu of crawling over to Katya, who welcomed the five-year-old into her lap with pity.  
“Amorette, Beverly cannot keep up with this safely! You’re the oldest, think of a way out. I don’t want to be here anymore, so stop acting like you do.” Katya purses her lips, challenging the dyed blonde to be the one to change their path. But the eighteen-year-old shakes her head.  
“Katya, I didn’t come from an elite family like you did.” Amorette pauses to breathe deeply, controlling a wave of nausea that hit her throat when her own backstory was brought up.  
“I came from a poor family in Paris. My brother and I were street rats, my parents were alcoholics. I’m no smarter than the rat Father calls me.”  
Katya widens her eyes, mad.  
“Chancellor, not Father. My father never raped me.” She says coldly, stroking the head of dark brunette hair under her.  
“You’re right.” Amorette’s head hangs, and a hand flies to her mouth as her stomach leaps to her throat. From beneath a curtain of hair about to break off, the eldest grimaces before staring at the flame that lit the large and lavish master bathroom. Outside the door, her sensitive ears pick up on the snoring a man that left fingerprints on her glasslike skin.  
To leave a life of comfort at a price would mean making it on her own, somehow.  
Beverly nudges Katya’s hand away, but her tired head settles against Katya’s blooming chest accentuated by only a pushup bra and many bruises and lovebites. But those bites only brought pain to the Russian girl. They made her angry.  
Adjusting her skimpy shorts, the Russian girl speak again in her thick accent, trying to keep the boiling sense of despair underneath her skin. If she broke, she would shatter.  
“Beverly can’t take another hit, look at her hands.” The sleeping child gave up no resistance to Katya showing her splintered and bloody palm to Amorette.  
“I’ve been run raw down there, my skin burns constantly.”  
“You’re just sick.”  
“I know when I’m sick, if you’re so dumb you should listen more.”  
Amorette grunts, bringing her hands to the low middle of her torso, where a small bump was forming underneath her large t-shirt. One hand wraps around the back of her neck and she whimpers, looking to the sleeping child in Katya’s lap. Her face stiffens as her eyes start to leak hot tears. Amorette’s chest tightens as her nails scrape down her neck-leaving marks-. Once her hand falls, it goes to her forming belly.  
“Please, believe me, I don’t want to be here, but I’m scared Katya. I can’t support myself, let alone another human!” She coughs, reaching her long-nailed hands up to her throat to secure them tightly against her blood vessels on the sides. As she became light-headed, her chest flutters as the familiar feeling comes back to her head.  
Being scared, terrified.  
Feeling high, on cloud nine.  
Dropping down again, and again.  
“Katya I’m not ready for this, for him to wake up, not for another session, not for a baby! I’m really not ready to grow up yet, I can’t do this!” Her hands grow ansty, and  
Amorette begins to dig her nails into her trachea, trailing them down to her collar bone. The candlelight illuminates her fresh red scratches and all the brunette could do was watch while her own head beat herself up.  
“We can’t get out, I’ve tried! I’ve asked! Then I’ve gotten choked, I’ve gotten spanked, I’ve gotten…” Amorette trails off, whimpering as she drops her hands to lean back against a set of stairs to the marble jacuzzi.  
“Raped, he doesn’t love you! He won’t pay, he hasn’t! Stop dreaming and get your head out of the clouds. No wish comes true Amorette!” Katya feels the familiar feeling of rage strike her heart like a match, and her heavy chest stutters as she watches her mentor break down.  
“Chancellor put that thing inside you, you can take it out. Make your own change Amorette. That’s all I ask. If we are stuck here until we shrivel up, I at least want you to just-.”  
“To just what…?” Amorette speaks up, her voice shaking. But her ears perk at footsteps coming from the door just five feet away.  
“Nevermind.” Katya finishes, taking her left hand to extinguish the candlelight flame as a knock on the door calls to all three of the young girls.  
Amorette swallows hard, her eyes widening as she scampers to the jacuzzi, up the stairs and her body hastily makes it inside with a large and hollow thunk. Her forehead against the faucet. Cringing back she holds her now leaking forehead, but in the dark she freezes. Hot breath against her neck, the blonde leans her head back to come eye to eye with her best friend, but her worst enemy.  
“F-Father.”  
“My Darling Amorette, what are you doing up so late with the alternates?”  
His hands reach for the wound on her head, and his calloused thumbs brush across the stinging flesh before scaling down her cheeks and neck. Once his large hands sat on her neck, his two index fingers tightly press in between, causing the platinum blonde to gasp at the uncomfortable feeling. She keeps her head planted to the jacuzzi’s side as Chancellor Church, the man she hated to adore, slapped her right side and gathered her breaking hair in his large fist. He yanked her head back further into the marble, and he sneers at her with a crooked smile of pearly teeth.  
As the eighteen-year-old stares up with shaking eyes, his grin takes on a sickly cold frown, and his tongue swipes past both his cheeks in thought. He waits for a few seconds, but it felt like at least an hour to the olive-skinned girl. Despite the pooling of dread and of discourse finding its way up into her throat like rising bile, she stays quiet to not further the punishment she was sure was to come.  
Chancellor tightens his grip on her hair, causing a putrid chunk to fall out onto the marble stairs. With a final yank, her neck cracks and she gasps, hands flying to her head as a throbbing sensation racked its way between her temples.  
The ginger man slaps the other side of her head, continuing to pull at her damaged hair until Amorette got the message to stand. But her feeble legs shook as she followed Chancellor out of the bathroom and into the bedroom of red and gold.  
She is forced onto the bed and on her back-Amorette brings her knees to her chest-, he presses his pale hips into her shins but unsatisfied he pushes down her knees quickly and forcefully. Her heels thud onto the ground harshly, and she whines out into the hot air when Chancellor presses deeper against her now open legs.  
One hand in her hair, the other pressing on her fresh wound, Chancellor shrugs himself out of his boxers and decides to enter his mistress.  
With her hands-free, she hits and presses her palms against his hot chest and beating heart. Amorette gasps and whines, trying not to scream for she knew what would happen if she did. The blonde starts to cry again, snot coming from her nose and leaking into her now tangled hair. She struggles, but every punch against his chest makes him rut into her until she clasps her hands around his throat and squeezes hard.  
“I’m not r-ready for this Father! Please don’t make me do this!” Amorette screams out of her plumps lips, pulling against the hand in her hair and the pounding in her head.  
Chancellor grunts, leaning into the struggling blonde’s left ear and licking its lobe before snarling something that made the mistress fall flat onto the bed.  
“You’re nothing without me Darling Amorette, you’re ready for whatever I give you.”  
So she clamps her lips shut, and takes it. Every bruise and hickey he felt she deserved. To add to the welts across her arms and legs. Every time her oceanic eyes began to open, he would thrust them shut, but she manages to make out the sneaking form of a fifteen-year-old Katya trying to avoid being seen by the lovers across the room. Beverly was asleep in her arms and soon the pair made it out the door without a disturbance.  
Lucky them.  
The night ends with Chancellor tiring himself out in his mistress, and soon he leaves it to the shaking french teenager to clean himself and herself up. This didn’t take long, but the exhausted teenager could swear it took hours. But she shrugs it off, because he was right.  
She signed up for this, and only a piece of paper bound her here, but it felt like chains.

This had been going on since Amorette was fifteen. Now, as months flew by, Amorette’s child began to as well. Her fear stayed stagnant, and as she gave birth, the trauma began to become too much.  
Amorette began to seclude herself from Katya and Beverly, the blonde no longer associating with them. She clung to Chancellor like a lifeline, at his side, all the time. Like a ghost, the olive-skinned girl began to make her presence unknown. She never showed up for dinner, to the estate’s communal room either.  
She floated like a ghost down the halls in long dresses. But at night, there was no ethereal peace for Amorette.  
One night, she ripped and cut her hair out. Another she cut herself deeply on the palms of her hands. Amorette stopped eating, and several nights servants passing by would hear the vomiting of the now skinny teenager after she had been force-fed by Chancellor. Finally, she refused anything red or gold, those colors flashed in her eyes like glass shattering. It made her sick.  
Beverly knocked, Katya wrote letters, but soon the only thing that could be heard out of the nineteen-year-old’s mouth was a simple ‘Yes Father’. Albeit this the nursery room stayed silent, and one day, Chancellor’s hollering could be heard throughout the entire house. Upon inspection, the sixteen and six-year-old discovered a letter shoved into the bottom of His wastebasket.

Chancellor Church,  
By the time you read this, I will be far gone. No matter how loud you scream, or how many times you look for me, I won’t allow myself to fall into your arms again. Do not call me, my cell phone has been burned. Do not look for me, my name has changed and so have I. I am not your doll anymore.  
Enclosed beneath this letter is the ring you gave me, because I now know you never loved me as much as you loved my body. Tonight I have decided to leave the lies, my heart aches for comfort but I know I will never get that with you like you promised. You have hurt me, forced me and many others. I have to loose you because I never loved you.  
I am leaving Posy to you, because I know whatever is meant for me isn’t aligned with her. I told you I wasn’t ready, so live with your mistake without me.  
I wish I could really tell you just how much pain you have caused me, and how many lies I see through now. Were you ever going to tell me my parents died and my brother is nowhere to be found? Answer, you never planned to. I see that now and I regret every time I kissed you, I’m glad tonight was our last.  
The amount of times you touched me makes me sick, for my innocence, I wish you suffer in Hell when the Devil comes biting at your heels. Don’t come to me for help, you have lost your very first model and your very last love.  
I can pinky promise you that every night I am away from you, these memories will rip me a new hole. So like glass, you have made me shatter.  
Oh, how I wish I could hurt you, instead of adore you.  
Goodbye Chancellor, I used to love you. But now your poison in my mouth.  
Amorette Rose

Amorette now stood at the edge of the estate’s property line, with a sullen look on her olive face. Her platinum hair had yellowed and was growing brunette roots, up in a messy bun and kept it.  
The night was cold, as it was early February, small flakes of snow floated to the ground like fair balloons, but the echo of screaming rang in her ears like a daunting tune.  
With his thin necklace in her hand, she lifts it up to her blue eyes, looking at the cross as it spun and gleamed in the moonlight. Amorette claps her hand harder around the item until her knuckles turn the same white as the ground beneath her.  
Then, past her sky blue -floor-length- nightgown, she drops the cross pendant into the snowy grass. It thuds, and so does her heart as her head flies up to the estate doors, newly opened and spreading a cold warmth across the dreary steps.  
So she turns and runs as Chancellor drops to his knees in the snow just meters away from the stairs. Not looking back, not catching her breath she runs. Until she cannot breathe she runs until she cannot think of where to go next.  
To Amorette, the world started turning the right way that night.  
She felt the wind in her damaged hair for once, and her red skin felt clean.  
But no story starts off sweet.


End file.
